


Something to Hope For

by QuestionedTurkey



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Drunken Shenanigans, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hope, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22071787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuestionedTurkey/pseuds/QuestionedTurkey
Summary: There is someone hiding in the one place The Entity cannot reach. When Meg discovers a strange key during a trial, she finds herself face to face with a mysterious inventor named Vigo. Alongside The Trapper and The Wraith, Meg is tasked to capture the one hiding and bring him out with the promise of their freedom. Filled with newfound hope, together they journey through the bowels of The Entity in search of this intruder.
Relationships: Evan MacMillan | The Trapper/Meg Thomas, Philip Ojomo | The Wraith/Sally Smithson | The Nurse
Comments: 9
Kudos: 64





	1. Solid Gold

**“They say a person needs just 3 things to be truly happy in this world: Someone to love, Something to do, And Something to hope for.” -Tom Bodett**

Her feet hit the ground in long, even strides as Meg Thomas sprinted through the trees that littered the shell of what was once the Macmillan Estate. She darted towards a nearby wall and planted a hand on the edge of a window as she vaulted through it with skill and precision like she'd done it a thousand times before. 

She _had_ done it a thousand times before, but who was keeping count? 

The heavy footfalls of the man chasing her were painfully audible as they drew closer. Meg had spent the past few minutes running this bastard around to buy Claudette, her only remaining team mate, a little more time to complete the last generator but she knew she wouldn't be able to do this forever. Meg was a sprinter, not a distance runner and she could already feel her lungs burning from the strain of keeping up the fast pace. Yes, she was faster than all of the killers in this realm, but the monsters that prowled around in trails had an insatiable blood lust that made them seemingly never get tired. They kept moving endlessly without ever stopping for breath. Meg could only assume that was The Entity's doing. 

She took a sharp turn around the L-shaped wall connected to the window she'd just vaulted and stuck close to the edges, trying to minimize the distance between her and the next window as much as possible. The one chasing her, better known for his nickname: The Trapper, followed close behind, moving just as efficiently as she did by sticking close to the wall as well. She silently cursed to herself, flinging herself over the second window without a second to spare, feeling the wind from his missed swing on the back of her neck. Compared to all the other killers she had to face on a daily basis, The Trapper was by far the most cunning, seemingly always two steps ahead of the survivors at all times. He was the most difficult to escape, but also the most fun to tease. 

As soon as her feet hit the ground, she turned around to see The Trapper panting as he tugged his cleaver out of the splintered wood of the window frame and returned his weapon back to his side. Meg flashed him a smile and crossed her arms, "What's the matter, big guy? Can't keep up?" 

Meg didn't think that any of the killers could speak, so his silence came as no surprise to her. He only let out a short huff before lunging forward, pushing his extremely large frame through the window in pursuit. Meg took that as her cue to get out of there. She turned tail and pushed forward once more, a sly grin on her face. Her taunts always seemed to get to the masked killer, which made it all the more fun to push his buttons. He certainly deserved it for the pain and suffering he had caused her and her friends, and It's not like he had any real feelings other than anger, after all. 

Just then, as soon as The Trapper was about to close the distance between them, a loud screech blared from somewhere ahead of them, signaling that the last generator had been completed. Meg felt a surge of adrenaline rush through her entire body as she suddenly was met with an incredible second wind. She dug her shoes hard into the ground and launched herself forward with unnatural speed, leaving the killer behind her lost in her own dust. She laughed triumphantly as she raced ahead of The Trapper, her entire body buzzing with energy. God, she’d never get used to that! 

But her good mood turned sour as soon as Claudettes scream ripped through the air along with the unforgiving snap of metal uncoiling and tearing into flesh. Claudette had stepped into a bear trap somewhere ahead of her. Meg was suddenly very aware that it meant there would be no open exit gate to run towards, and nobody to save Claudette if The Trapper caught up to her. 

On a whim, Meg made a risky decision. She glanced over her shoulder to see if The Trapper was close. She couldn’t see him yet, but the frantic pounding of her heart in her chest told her that he was near. She looked ahead and saw the looming shadow of a water tower not too far away. If she could use it as cover, the killer might just walk right by. 

She narrowed her eyes in focus and ran as fast as she could the rest of the distance. Next to the base of the water tower was a cluster of crates arranged in an angled tunnel-like line that left a small space between the wall. The fit would be tight, but she should have enough room to squeeze inside and go undetected. Feeling the pounding in her ears getting stronger, she took a deep breath and slipped inside, getting low to the ground while trying to make herself as small as possible. There was no cover over her head, so she would just have to hope that the killer wouldn’t think to check behind the crates. The heavy crunch of The Trapper’s foot steps were upon her seconds later. Meg pushed herself backwards as far as she could go until her back pressed against the last crate in the line. She held her breath when she heard The Trapper’s breathing echo against his mask. His exhales were ragged from the exhaustion of chasing the runner for so long. Good, she thought, she was delighted to have made him killing her and her friends as hard as possible. 

He took a few small steps around, his head turning in every direction around him as he searched for her. Meg stayed as still as she possibly could, but her lungs were beginning to protest from the lack of air as she held her breath. If he didn’t leave soon, she was screwed. 

He turned his attention towards the crates and slowly began to make his way towards them. Meg closed her eyes and prepared for his bloody hands to reach down and rip her from her hiding place but before he got the chance to look, the screech of metal sliding together nearby signaled that Claudette had managed to escape from the bear trap. The trapper snapped his head in her direction and was off in an instant as he began to hunt the easier target down. Meg gasped the second he was out of earshot and gulped in oxygen hungrily. That had been way too close for comfort, but now wasn’t the time to be relieved. The trial wasn’t over yet. 

Meg began to push herself onto her knees to stand but something flashed in the corner of her eye that caught her attention. She looked to her left and noticed a small opening inside of the wall that made up the base of the water tower. There was something inside that was catching the faintest ray of moonlight, causing it to glimmer among the shadowed shelter of the crates. Meg curiously reached her hand into the crevice and felt something smooth and flat inside. She wrapped her fingers around some kind of handle sticking to it and slid it out from its hiding place. Meg almost gasped as the object revealed itself in the full light of the moon. 

It was a solid gold toolbox. 

It was seemingly glowing as Meg examined its pristine condition in her hands. There wasn’t even a single spec of dirt or dust on the outside of it, almost like it had been placed there moments ago. Meg found herself getting completely lost in her new find, running her fingers over the surface of it, marveling in the beauty of such a simple object. She assumed that it was real gold too, The Entity probably had no interest in using a replacement metal when the rarity and appeal of gold in the real world was lost when it could be conjured at will. This toolbox had no real value in the realm of The Entity, but Meg’s old ways were hard to shake, even after spending years in a place where the most valuable items were gauze, medical tape, and styptic powder. 

Meg wondered what could possibly be inside that would outshine the beauty of a solid gold toolbox. She slid her thumb down to the small latch that kept the box closed and popped it open with a small snap. She lifted the lid carefully and took a peek inside. 

Sitting at the bottom of the toolbox was a single silver key, but this key looked different from any of the other keys Meg had encountered during her time in the realm. The keys she normally saw were slightly crooked and had three round holes at the top, but this one only had two with a triangle shaped hole in the center. This key was masterfully designed and in pristine condition, the silver radiating similarly to the toolbox that contained it. She could tell instantly that there was something special about this key, but she wasn’t quite sure what that was yet. 

Claudette’s scream drew her from her thoughts in an instant. 

Meg’s head snapped up as she came back to her senses. She reached in and snatched the key from the toolbox, shoving it into her pocket and throwing the box to the side. She was angry at herself for getting so easily distracted by petty things and jumped to her feet, pushing herself out of her safe haven and reentering the trial once more, leaving the golden toolbox she found beautiful moments ago toppled over and discarded in the dirt like it was nothing. 

She ran forward with a new sense of purpose. The time she’d taken inspecting the items she had found had given her several moments to catch her breath, so at least something came out of that monumental waste of time. She raced forward to help Claudette as much as she could but when Meg rounded the water tower she saw her friend in a bloodied mess on the ground, The Trapper looming over her as he wiped the blood off of his cleaver. Meg slowed to a stop with her heart sinking in her chest when she made eye contact with the small healer. Claudette gave her a worried look and weakly waved with her bloody hand for Meg to go while mouthing the words, ‘Leave me.’ After mentally accounting for the previous events of the trial in her head, Meg realize sadly that this would be her friends third time on a meat hook, meaning The Entity would claim her instantly and her lifeless body would be lifted up into the sky as she was sacrificed to it. 

The runner watched helplessly as The Trapper hoisted her up onto his shoulder and carried her to the nearest hook, never taking her eyes off of Claudette even when she grew weak from blood loss and her eyes fluttered shut as she lost consciousness. Meg turned away when the killer lifted her up and tossed her onto the hook like she was a dead animal, unable to watch as the tendrils of the entity materialized around the hook and impaled her body in several quick snaps. Meg felt herself fill with anger and grief as the world shook around her during the sacrificial process. If she hadn’t wasted so much time sitting on the ground doing nothing her friend might be alive right now. She almost ripped the key from her pocket and tossed it into the dirt right there. 

But she had bigger things to worry about. 

The Trapper turned away from the hook and spotted Meg watching from behind the tower as soon as he looked in that direction. He wasted no time in bounding towards her with his weapon held firmly in his hand. Meg perked up instantly then, turning around and bolting off in the opposite direction, their chase picking up right where it left off, but this time Meg had nowhere to run. There wasn’t a single exit gate open. 

But she did have that key. 

Hope briefly fluttered in her chest at the thought, but the heavy breathing of the killer chasing her made her think realistically. If she could just lose him, maybe she’d have just enough time to open an exit gate. As tempting as an easy escape sounded, there was too much risk to searching for the hatch when she was the only remaining survivor. 

Meg pushed forward towards a pile of barrels and trash that stood in a line with a pallet leaning against it at the end. She ran through and put the pile of trash between her and The Trapper, slowing slightly to see what he would try and do next. He didn’t stop moving for a second, following her right through the opening where the wooden pallet sat. She picked up the pace instantly and took a sharp turn around a barrel and headed towards the pallet again. The moment she reached the other side, she flipped around and slammed the pallet down right in The Trapper’s face. He grunted in surprise and stumbled backwards, barely avoiding getting smacked in his masked face. Meg couldn’t help but chuckle at his reaction, her usual humor leaking back into her mind. If she was going to go down, she was going to go down giving this asshole hell. 

He raised a boot and began to kick the pallet to pieces, giving Meg time to gain some distance on him. She moved quickly through several high wooden walls in search of her next pallet. She started to get a little concerned when all she could find were three piles of splintered wood for three wall segments in a row. Dwight and Ace had really cleared this place out before they’d been sacrificed. She continued past the third segment and noticed the shack not too far ahead of her, the safest pallet in the trial still standing in the open doorway. She smiled in relief and headed that way, nearing the broken building with The Trapper still far behind her. 

Meg jogged the last few steps towards the window to vault through it and put an obstacle between her and the killer but the second her feet stepped into the tall grass beside the window time seemed to stop for several moments before the rigid snap of a bear trap registered in her mind. She glanced down slowly at the blood pouring from her ankle where the teeth of the trap had shredded her skin like paper. She felt a combination of dread and pain build up all at once and explode out of her mouth in a blood curdling scream of agony. The shockwave of metal hitting bone jolted through her leg and up her spine before her knees buckled from under her and she collapsed. The bear trap tugged at her flesh as she fell, causing tears to well up in her eyes after she hit the ground hard. Her heart started to beat impossibly fast in her chest and she knew The Trapper was closing in. She managed to shakily lift herself up onto her good knee and lowered her head to stare at the trap embedded around her ankle. Her hands fell to her sides as the will to fight left her body. She was through. She’d let her entire team down. Claudette had died and Meg didn’t even have an escape to show for it. She was a failure. 

Meg let out a shaky breath and mentally prepared herself for the pain that was about to come, but as she took one last longing look at the window to the shack her heart skipped a beat when her eyes landed on the hatch sitting right there on the floor inside not three feet away from her. Every stubborn cell in her body flared to life in an instant, her hands quickly reaching down to grip the metal jaws of the trap. She started to attempt to pry it open, but she’d already lost a lot of blood so her attempts were weaker than what she could usually manage. The thundering approach of the killer filled her with a small burst of adrenaline and with one last hard pull, she opened the jaws just enough to slide her foot out from its iron clutches. She gasped as the cold air hit her open wounds but she bit her tongue and forced herself to her feet, gripping onto the edge of the window with shaky hands as she pulled herself slowly upwards. She managed to swing her good leg over the frame of the window and used her momentum to drag her now useless one the rest of the way through. She attempted to place a fraction of her weight on her injured foot but her nerves instantly screamed in protest and her hands had to slap back onto the frame to catch herself from falling again. 

The Trapper was on her in that instant, watching her struggle to even stand from the other side of the window. Meg glared at him and hissed through clenched teeth, “You get your kicks watching people suffer, you sick freak?”

He didn’t move or react, just stared at her with his muscled shoulders moving up and down as he breathed. Maybe it was just the blood loss scrambling her brain, but his non-reaction only angered her more. 

“Can’t you speak? Don’t you have anything to fucking say for yourself?” 

He said nothing. He only hesitated for a moment before turning right, making his way towards the open door of the shack to finish her off. Meg growled and turned that way too, hobbling over towards the door as quickly as she could, throwing the pallet down just before he could get there. She stared daggers into the black pits that were the eyeholes of his mask then turned her back to him and limped towards the hatch, digging into her pocket and retrieving the silver key she’d found. 

The Trapper must have realized what she was trying to do because Meg heard his foot slam against the pallet to break it. She finally let her legs buckle from under her and collapsed onto her knees, leaning forward to jam the key into the lock. The pallet shattered behind her just as she turned it with a quick twist of her wrist. The black lock sprung open, dark fog and a rush of air poured out of it so suddenly her braids flew into the air behind her head. The last bit of strength that she had left vanished all at once and she went limp, falling forward into the hatch the second before The Trapper reached down to grab her, his hands swiping the air as Meg fell downward into the unknown. 

**< ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>**

Meg grunted in pain as she hit the hard ground, landing face first into the dirt. She groaned as she slid her arms under herself and pushed herself upwards, rising to her feet slowly. She winced in pain as her injured foot touched the ground, but it wasn’t as bad as it was a few moments ago. After managing to keep her balance for more than a few seconds, Meg looked around at the thick gathering of trees and bushes around her, expecting to find the campfire somewhere nearby but it was nowhere to be seen. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and turned around, noticing then that she was standing in the center of a dirt pathway that lead deeper into the forest. The faintest trickle of light from some unknown source illuminated the trees ahead of her. After taking one final glance around, she realized that she’d probably end up wherever that light was coming from regardless of which direction she walked. The Entity built it’s realm entirely on where it wanted you to end up, if it was watching you, that is. Sometimes the other survivors had managed to slip by and end up somewhere they weren't supposed to, but that was rare. 

Meg sighed in slight annoyance, not even bothering to head a different direction out of spite like she normally would. She was just too tired. So tired of playing the same games every day. So tired of feeling the same pain. She was not in the mood to be petty right now, which was _also_ rare. 

Meg started limping in the direction of the strange glow, her limping fading more and more with every step as she felt her normal strength return to her again. The Entity was healing her injuries while leading her towards some unknown place. The thought unsettled her, but if The Entity wanted to kill her it would just do it. She wished that thought made her feel better. 

As she moved forward she noticed a few crows perched in random places around her, watching her as she walked by. She noticed one in particular sitting on a rock in front of her that she approached at a little lower than eye level. The crow’s pitch black eyes were trained on her, it’s head twitched back and forth to get a good look at her. She disregarded it and tried to walk past it, but when she reached the rock the crow screeched at her and took off into the sky. Meg flinched when one of it’s wings swiped her cheek as it flew away. She frowned and absentmindedly brushed a feather out of her face.

After a few minutes of trekking through the woods, she followed where the path curved slightly left, took the last few steps around a cluster of trees, and saw what she could barely describe as an old building made out of dark red bricks up ahead on the right side of the trail, flickering light pouring from the entrance, which was the entire front of the building because most of the walls and the roof of the building had crumbled and broken all around, leaving the inside completely devoid of any privacy. What was left of the right wall was barely managing to block her view from where she was standing so she couldn’t get a good look inside, but she could hear the roaring of a generator which was most likely powering the lights and whatever else was going on behind those walls. 

By now, Meg had already regained all of her strength since the previous trial so she walked the rest of the way like nothing had ever happened. She felt strangely refreshed, even as the uncertainty of what she was going to find inside of that building gnawed at the back of her mind. She even allowed herself a small smile of victory. She _had_ just completely showed The Trapper up right in front of his face and damn, it felt good. Whatever The Entity was throwing at her right now, she’d face it head on. 

As she drew near, Meg could hear strange bubbling and the clicking of glass from behind the wall, along with a male voice humming along to some tune she’d never heard before. Who the hell could be all the way out here? Hopefully not a killer, she thought grimly. 

Piggybacking off of the temporary bravery of her recent victory, she willed herself to step forward and look inside of the crumbling mess of a structure and find out what the source of the noise was. 

The inside of the building was mostly barren, save for a green quilt mounted up on the wall to her left. In the corner touching the back wall was the generator as she suspected. It coughed and sputtered like it was struggling to stay activated. To the right of the generator was a pile of chains and the latches they were once attached thrown haphazardly on the floor, with small indents on the crumbled wall above like they’d been ripped straight off with sheer force. Finally, to the far right was a worktable that was mounted to the back wall about waist high. On top of the table were a series of intricate test tubes and beakers connected with glass tubes with some kind of liquid filtering through each of them. 

In front of the apparent chemistry project was the source of the low humming. The tall hooded figure of a man was fiddling with one of the tubes, holding it up to the light to inspect it closer. He wore a dark leather trench coat with a large hood covering his entire head and brown gloves secured at his wrist with small buckles. He was very broad shouldered and tall, but not as tall as the killers were. That didn’t make him any less of a threat, though. He didn’t notice Meg just outside of the building and continued to mix and inspect the liquids inside of the tubes. Meg wasn’t a chemistry wiz by any means, so she hadn’t the faintest idea what on earth he could be creating, or what purpose it could possibly serve in this world.

She took a cautious step forward to try and get a closer look but her shoe came down a piece of rubble that crumbled under her weight with a loud crunch. Meg froze and glanced up at the man with wide eyes, wondering how he would react to her intruding in his dwelling. 

The man stopped working in an instant, quickly putting his tubes down before turning to look Meg in the eyes. He had a strong jawline with very defining characteristics on his face. His skin was pale and coated in dirt and grime like he hadn’t even bothered to try and wipe it away. His eyes were dark and serious as he examined her with interest. Meg didn’t like the way he was staring at her. She contemplated backing away and making a break for it but hesitated in surprise when a huge grin formed on his face and his entire body perked up in joy. He all but skipped over to her and raised a hang in greeting.

“Somebody finally found my toolbox! And just in time too!” He shouted happily, reaching down and taking Megs hand into his, shaking it with enthusiasm. 

Meg just stared at him with a look of dumbfounded confusion on her face. Who the hell was this guy? 

He noticed her wariness and took a step backwards, “My apologies! I just haven’t seen a survivor in quite some time! I tend to get a little ahead of myself! You’re probably wondering who I am and why you’re here, I assume?”

Meg nodded slowly, relaxing just enough to stand up straight and cross her arms against her chest, “That’s right. What is all this? Who are you?”

He dipped his head at the last question, the smile widening on his face as he gave her a polite dip in greeting, “It's a pleasure to meet you. I cannot remember the name I was given at birth, it’s been so long since I’ve used it,” he admitted as he stood upright and straightened his coat with his gloved hands, that same smile not wavering for a moment, “But you can call me Vigo.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Vigo's Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vigo offers Meg a reward she can't possibly refuse... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I am so sorry it took me so long to update this fic D: I've had 4,000 words typed up for months and I have just not had the drive to finish it. After all that time, I am finally here with another chapter! It's the longest update ive added to any of my stories ever! I hope you guys enjoy :D

Meg took a step to the side and leaned against the wall with her arms still crossed, “Vigo, huh? That’s a strange name.”

Vigo chuckled, “I suppose it is. Fitting though, wouldn’t you say?” He held his arms out and gestured to himself. 

Meg had to admit that Vigo didn’t seen threatening at all, if anything he seemed exactly the opposite. He was a charming guy who’d been nothing but nice to her so far, not even asking why she’d been spying on him. She’d hear him out, even if The Entity had something to do with their meeting. 

“Formalities aside, what’s the deal with the golden toolbox? Regular metal not good enough for you?” 

He waved dismissively at her question, “Oh, quite the opposite. Metal is actually so useful to me that I run out often. I am an inventor after all, and I have to craft my projects out of something! I’ve found metal does the job quite well, and it’s fairly easy to scavenge.” 

“How is gold easier to scavenge than metal?” Meg asked, confused. 

“I didn’t scavenge the golden toolbox!” He answered, turning around and picking up where he left off with his current project on the worktable, “I asked for it.” 

“Yeah, because as we know lots of people have solid gold toolboxes just lying around.”

“I didn’t get it from anyone in the realm. The Entity gave it to me.” He said it as if it was a passing thought. 

Meg stood up straight at that, her arms unfolding from her chest. The Entity gave it to him? Since when was The Entity in the charitable mood? It didn’t care about anyone trapped in this world let alone their petty wishes. That could only mean…

Meg swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat, “So you work for The Entity.” 

Vigo glanced over his shoulder with a proud smile, “More or less. You catch on very quickly, Megan. It’s no wonder The Entity chose you.” 

The ease that Meg had initially felt in Vigo’s presence was long gone.

“I didn’t tell you my name,” she said flatly, growing more unsettled by the second.

The Entity had chosen her? For what? He couldn’t possibly mean chosen for trials. No... he meant something else entirely. 

She suddenly was very aware of how exposed she was. How, if Vigo really wanted to, he could do anything he wanted to her and get away with it. He had The Entity’s blessing, after all. 

Vigo seemed to sense her sudden mood change and looked back over his shoulder, “You don’t have to worry, Megan. I’m not going to hurt you, and neither is The Entity. We need you to complete a task for us, that’s all.”

“You and your task and go to hell!” Meg shouted at him, getting offended that he would even consider asking her to do something for a being that forced her into a living hell every single day. A being that made her suffer unimaginable pain that no person should ever have to go through _once_ , let alone thousands of times. A being that took her away from her _dying mother_ to play it’s twisted game of life and death. The Entity would have to kill her, because there was no way in hell that she’d ever help it for any reason. She’d rather die for real. 

Vigo finished whatever he was doing and took his gloves off, putting them inside of his pocket. He turned around and gave Meg his full attention, “Believe me, you will want to hear what I have to say. I can understand your weariness of The Entity and I, but we can make it worth your while. If you would just hear me out.” 

“There is nothing you could possibly offer me that would make me help the thing that kidnapped and tortured me.”

“How about your freedom?” 

Meg’s angry expression melted away from her face in an instant. She felt a feeling that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Real hope. She never thought that she’d ever escape this world, figuring that The Entity would keep her here for the rest of eternity. She could go home. She could see her mother again. She could continue her life where she left off like nothing ever happened. She could _live again_. 

Before she could open her mouth to speak, she heard heavy footsteps coming from behind her. 

Meg looked over her shoulder, every thought going through her head fizzling in an instant when her eyes landed on The Trapper quickly walking towards the two of them. Her eyes shot open as she took several wide steps backwards out of fear. What was he doing here? Did he follow her here to finish the job? If he killed her outside of a trial would she die for real? She didn’t want to find out. 

Meg bumped against Vigo’s worktable in her attempt to get as far away from the killer as possible. He watched her with a curious expression on his face as she cowered away. He jumped in realization a moment later, “Oh! I’m so sorry, Megan! I should have mentioned that every killer comes through here after a trial on the way back to wherever they’re going. Seeing as you’re a survivor, that’s something I probably should have mentioned.” He took a slow step in her direction, “I’m truly sorry.” 

Meg completely ignored him, her full attention on the giant masked murderer that just stepped inside the building. She lowered herself defensively, ready to sprint away at a moment's notice. 

The Trapper raised his hands in front of himself, motioning for her to stop, “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was rough and low pitched, suiting his unusually large frame well. 

Meg eyed him with surprise. She didn’t know that he could talk. For some reason it angered her, the fear and rage blending together into a dangerous combination in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes darted to the weapon he was holding in one of his hands that was still dripping with blood from the previous trial. 

He followed her gaze to his weapon and almost instantly turned around and tossed it out of the building towards a pile of bushes on the other side of the dirt trail. He turned back around towards her and raised his hands again, staying rooted to his spot at the entrance, “We’re not in a trial. I’m not going to hurt you,” He assured again. 

Meg didn’t believe him for a second, staying where she was with her back pressed against the brick wall behind her. 

The Trapper sighed, turning his head towards Vigo who was just watching them in the corner, “Can you please do something for once?” 

Vigo looked back and forth between the two before glancing at the killer with an uncomfortable look on his face, “What do you want me to do? You’re the one who has killed her countless times.”

The Trapper stared at him in annoyance before looking back at Meg, “If I wanted to hurt you I would have by now. Look around you.” 

Meg hesitantly turned her head to look at the room around her, her eyes darting back and forth between her surroundings and the killer standing in front of her. 

“You’re completely surrounded. There’s nowhere for you to run. I could easily kill you if I wanted to, but I don’t want to.” He raised his hands to show her they were empty, “I don’t have a weapon. I have no intention of harming you.” 

Meg cautiously stood a little straighter but she didn’t let her guard down, “Telling me I’m surrounded is a funny way of letting me know that you’re not gonna hurt me.” 

He stared at her for several seconds, “I’m not good at this.” 

_You’re good at killing my friends_ , Meg thought bitterly, her frown deepening. 

The Trapper sighed and turned towards Vigo, “Can we have a moment, please?”

Vigo nodded and quickly made his way to the entrance with an awkward expression on his face, “Say no more. I’ll be outside.”

And in an instance, Meg was alone in a room with The Trapper. 

He watched her stand there for a moment before speaking, “You can’t trust him.” 

Meg coughed out a laugh in disbelief, “I can’t trust _him?_ ”

“Just because it’s coming from me doesn’t make me any less right. He is an incredibly talented manipulator. What did he promise you?” 

Meg couldn’t believe what was happening. She was having a casual conversation with someone who had just tried to kill her not ten minutes ago. She wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the idea was, let alone the fact that it was _actually happening_. 

“Do you think I have any desire at all to be near you let alone speak to you?” 

He ignored her comment, “What did he promise you?”

“Freedom.”

He looked at her in surprise like he hadn’t expected her to say that. Meg guessed that he didn’t offer freedom lightly, which gave her another tiny flicker of hope. 

“What does he want you to do in return?”

“You mean, what do I want you to _both_ do in return for your freedom!” Vigo corrected and walked back inside the building with a sly smile on his face.

The Trapper glared at him, “Were you eavesdropping?”

“Yes.” He stepped over and stood between the two, looking back and forth at each of them, “The offer extends to you as well, friend.”

Meg could barely process what was happening. She was so confused as to how she ended up in this situation that she forgot to be afraid of the killer and The Entity’s employee of the month standing five feet away from her. 

“You haven’t even said what you wanted me to do yet,” she reminded him. 

“Right,” he said as he walked over to his work table and picked up a short stack of papers, skimming through them one by one, “There is a place within The Entity that is not like any other. This region is large, and is completely out of reach of The Entity’s influence. There is a man inside who is not supposed to be there. He is extremely dangerous, and possesses knowledge that I believe he is going to use to destroy everyone inside of the realm.”

“What knowledge does he possess?” The Trapper asked.

Vigo’s smile vanished and his features grew serious, “Before he cowered off into that place, he stole a journal of mine containing all of my research. I’m sure you’re both familiar with pustula flowers?” 

Meg hadn’t heard about pustula flowers in a while. She vaguely remembered that they sprouted during trials and oozed an orange goo-like substance that smelled absolutely rancid. She also recalled with a shiver down her spine that for the duration of the plants appearing in trials, some of the killers had been super charged and ultra aggressive, exhibiting strength and endurance like she’d never seen before. In fact, The Trapper had been one of them. Meg glanced over to see the killer cringe at the memory. She didn’t feel empathy for him, but she could imagine how horrible that must have been. 

“All too familiar,” The Trapper mumbled, “What about them?”

Vigo continued, “Well, as you know, the nectar that secretes from the pustula flowers has many effective properties. It enhances every single part of you, your strength, your speed, your agility, but it also significantly decreases your brain function and ability to experience emotion. For the lack of a better word, you’re a snarling beast with a one track mind. But, when deluded properly,” he turned and grabbed one of the breakers on his table, “It can be used in a concentrated dose to enhance your abilities and retain most brain function. You become a very dangerous person very quickly. The nectar is the concentrated excrement of the emotions The Entity feeds from its killers and survivors. Think of it like toxic waste. It’s why once every year The Entity has to discard the waste, leaving it weak and vulnerable for weeks at a time. It’s the only thing in the universe that can harm it. It won’t kill The Entity, to my knowledge nothing can, but it knocks it on its ass for a while. Whoever is infected with the nectar, which inside of the body changes into a virus like substance called blight, is immune to The Entity’s influence, leaving a huge window open for anyone to come to this side of the realm and kill every last killer and survivor while The Entity isn’t around to make sure you come back to life.”

He watched the liquid inside of the glass beaker swirl around for a moment before setting it back down and turning to them, “The journal that was stolen from me contains every note and conclusion I’ve drawn during my experiments with pustula nectar. This man has the ability to storm The Entity and destroy the entire realm and be completely invincible while doing it.”

Meg was starting to grow concerned at what Vigo was saying. If this man came and killed everyone she loved, what would happen? Would their souls be trapped inside of the realm forever? Would they simply cease to exist? Both thoughts scared Meg, so she tried to push them out of her mind. 

“How long do we have until he comes to destroy us?” Meg fearfully asked. 

Vigo lowered his head in thought, “Let’s see… The blood moon rises in eight days… it takes forty-eight hours for the serum to synthesize…” He looked up at the two of them with wide eyed-realization, “You have ten days.” 

Megs eyes wandered towards the ground as she weighed her options. Was Vigo telling the truth? She really had no way to know. Even working for The Entity, they both wanted the same thing: for everyone to stay unharmed. He really had nothing to gain from lying, and it wasn’t like Meg or The Trapper had any real power in the realm, so even if this man hiding in some hidden away part of The Entity was really dangerous, nothing would really change would it? 

Meg gave the killer standing in front of her a cautious look. If he _was_ telling the truth, Meg had seen first hand what the nectar from the pustula flowers did to someone when they were infected. She knew the strength that they would give someone. In the chance that Vigo was telling the truth and she disregarded him, every single person that she loved in this world would die. Is that a risk she was willing to take?

The Trapper spoke while Meg was in thought, “And what is the downside to this man coming and killing everyone inside of the realm? One could argue that a true death and a final escape from this place would be an act of mercy.” 

Meg stared at him in disbelief. He really was a psychopath, wasn’t he? Who would just be okay with letting everyone they love die? To give up so easily? Her shocked expression turned to one of anger quickly as it made sense to her in an instant. Of course he could care less. There was nobody that he loved. He didn’t care what happened to the people around him. After all, he did spend almost every minute brutally murdering said people. But still, did he have no sense of self preservation? 

Meg could feel her fear for the killer melt further towards disdain every minute she spent in his presence. 

The hooded man clasped his hands together, “Dear Trapper, The Entity doesn’t want you to die,” He gestured towards Meg, “None of you. It had always planned to release you when it is done with you.” 

The Trapper stood still, not really sure how to respond to that she could only guess. The Entity had always planned to release everyone? She didn’t even know how to process that. She didn’t know what to believe anymore. Her entire world had changed in the blink of an eye and only because she’d just so happened to find a toolbox during a trial. It all just didn’t make any sense. 

“Why us?” She finally asked, “What’s stopping you from going there and getting him yourself?” 

Vigo frowned, “I knew you would ask that. Well, the man trapped is a dear friend of mine. He doesn’t understand what he’s gotten himself into. The last time we saw each other we got into quite a large… misunderstanding. He doesn’t like my agreement with The Entity, which I do not blame him for. It’s hard to understand the intentions of a god, after all. He would see me, know it’s The Entity’s doing, and refuse to return and listen to reason. He thinks he understands what he couldn’t possibly because he has my research. He doesn’t know what kind of power he holds. I think we can all agree that power like that doesn’t belong in the hands of one man.” 

“So why the toolbox and the key? Why not just make The Entity give you a few people to go after him?” She asked. 

“Because, Megan, this man is extremely cunning. He is always ten steps ahead of anyone and everyone. Just anyone traveling into the forbidden part of The Entity would be certain death before they could even locate him. Traveling to this part of the realm is dangerous. The Entity has natural defense systems to stop someone from accidentally finding themselves there, but this man is smart. He looks in places where others do not.” He turned and flashed Meg a smile, “Just like you. He will see that in you immediately and it will increase your chances of gaining his trust immensely.” 

“So why me too?” The Trapper asked. 

His smile waved slightly, “Because it is not a one man job. Some of The Entity’s defenses are random and brutal. If Meg were to find herself caught in one of it’s traps, there would be nobody to save her. Sometimes, you just need a little brawn to help out if need be.” He seemed to realize something and started laughing to himself, “I’m sorry, but I’m just now seeing the irony in asking you to help free Megan from traps!” 

Meg blinked at him, unamused, “Well _I’m_ sorry, because there’s no way in hell i'm going to put my trust into a murderer.” She crossed her arms and glared at The Trapper. 

The killer stared right back at her, “You cannot expect us to get along, Vigo. Not with everything that has happened in trials.” 

“Oh, I don’t expect you to. That’s why I have extended the offer to someone else who is good at keeping others grounded.” Vigo stepped to the side and looked over The Trapper’s shoulder, “Here he comes now.” 

Meg followed his gaze, her eyes landing on none other than The Wraith heading towards them. The way he walked was careful and with purpose, a certain grace to his movements that Meg never stopped to notice before, but now that she was here in this strange situation and was slowly being surrounded by killers without the constant threat of death, she could notice things like that. The Wraith had also been known to be one of the least brutal in trials, sometimes showing mercy that the others did not. A small part of Meg respected him the most out of the other killers, but it extended only as far as one could respect a killer. He was still a murderer, she had to remember that. 

When he reached where they were standing, Vigo put an arm around the much taller killer and turned the both of them to face Meg and The Trapper, “Philip here is going to accompany you on your journey. If Megan is the brains and Trapper is the brawn, then Phillip is the heart. Don’t let his status as a killer fool you, he is an absolute sweetheart.” 

“Philip?” Meg found herself blurting out loud involuntarily, “He has a name?” 

The much taller killer gave her a slightly annoyed expression while Vigo chuckled next to him, “Of course he has a name! I know survivors have some hard feelings towards killers…”

Yeah, you could say that, 

“...But they are still people taken from their lives just like you.” 

The Wraith squirmed a little against him, looking a little uncomfortable. Unlike The Trapper, The Wraith didn’t have anything covering his face but a thick layer of mud and dirt, so she could see his expressions clearly. 

Well, actually _Philip_ , she supposed. It was at least less of a mouthful than saying _The Wraith_ every time. She glanced over at The Trapper, wondering what his name was. 

_No._ Meg mentally slapped herself. She couldn’t be humanizing the killers. Having names didn’t change the horrible things they had done. There also had to be a reason why they were chosen to be killers while the others were chosen to be survivors. She could only imagine what they had done in the real world to be chosen for a life like this. She had no interest in being anyone’s friend, apparent sweetheart or not.

Vigo patted Philip on the shoulder before coming to stand between the two, “He will keep you two from, well, quite literally tearing each other’s throats out.” He put a hand on The Trapper’s shoulder who cringed at his touch, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll get along after a while.”

Meg severely doubted that. 

Philip turned and gave Vigo a pleading look, making him frown in response, “I told you, Philip, I can only extend the invite to you. The Entity can only afford to lose two killers. I thought you and Sally had an understanding.”

Philip was visibly upset but lowered his head in reluctant acceptance anyway, giving Vigo a slight nod. 

Meg felt an odd emotion she couldn’t place watching a killer express vulnerability and sadness so openly in front of another killer and a survivor. It was so very… human of him. She tried not to dwell too hard on it. 

Man, her list of world shaking things to try and forget was getting longer and longer by the minute. 

This entire situation was just mind boggling, and she was beside herself standing there wondering how and why she was standing there entertaining the idea of her potential freedom and having casual conversation with these… monsters. Two people who had _killed her over and over again_ and someone who was working with the thing orchestrating her hellish eternity. 

But also offering her freedom. 

She had to get away from all of this. It was all just too much. 

Vigo looked over to her and seemed to notice that she was beginning to become undone at the seams, “Megan, are you alright? I understand this might be a bit much but I do need an answer as soon as-”

She held up a hand as a motion for him to stop, “Please just… I need… I need some air. I can’t deal with this right now.” She made a wide berth around the other three and stepped calmly outside of the building and headed towards the trees. She crossed her arms and watched the ground as she walked, her thoughts swirling in her mind. 

She heard the others squabble and argue most likely over her but she didn’t have enough patience or mental capacity left to care. She crossed the treeline and let the calming presence of nature sooth her nerves, the sound of cicadas and crickets chirping in the distance giving her mind just the slightest bit of give. She knew that nothing here was real, and that there were no bugs or birds or hell even squirrels in those trees but somewhere along the line she stopped caring and just kept walking, letting herself get fooled for a sliver of peace and quiet, which was as rare as diamonds in this place. 

Vigo’s offer and the events of the last ten minutes echoed in her mind over and over as she continued forward, stepping cautiously over loose branches and roots that littered the forest floor. Nature had always found a way to make her feel better when she was in the real world and she so desperately wished to have that back now that she was here, but no matter how hard she tried to pretend, something was always _not quite right_ with everything around her. She sighed and pretended anyway, letting her emotions and feelings run loose now that she was finally alone. 

Meg fought back the urge to have a breakdown, but what else was she supposed to do? Go back and tell Vigo yes? Abandon everything and everyone and run straight towards the finish line without a care in the world? 

Meg was disgusted that a big part of her screamed yes. That’s _exactly_ what she wanted to do. She wanted to be selfish for once. She wanted to turn tail and sprint back to that crumbled building, tell Vigo yes, and walk into the sunset hand in hand with The Trapper and The Wraith. She stifled a smile at the thought of running back inside of her old home and into her healthy mother’s arms. Going back and finishing her last year of college. Finding someone and starting a family of her own. Living her _life_. 

The other parts of her were _furious_ that she would even dare to consider it. All of her fellow survivors that she had come to love in the years that she had been trapped here all stood in a line, looks of betrayal, sadness, and disgust littered on their faces. Why did you leave us? After all we did for you? Did we really mean that little to you? All it took for you to abandon us was for The Entity to dangle a carrot in your face like an animal? What makes you so special? Why do YOU get to live on? You don’t deserve a second chance any more than we do. You’re just as horrible as the killers you claim to hate. We will never forgive you. 

Meg cringed and shook her head, trying to clear her head of those thoughts. She knew deep down that most of her friends would be happy for her. They would plead for her to take the chance and live her life. She knew she would do the exact same for them. She could picture Claudette standing next to her with a hand on her shoulder, giving her the saddest smile while telling her that it was okay. Encouraging her to live her life and be happy for all of them. No matter how much she knew this was probably true, the guilt was overwhelming anyway. 

She never imagined that she would hesitate at the chance to leave The Entity’s realm. Somewhere along the line she had taken all of the bad and decided to place the good above it all. The small moments where she genuinely laughed and connected with the people who all just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time like her. Even though she’d also be leaving behind the years and years of torture and pain and death, leaving behind the people she considered her family was still a huge price to pay. 

She wondered around the forest for what felt like an hour, weighing her options and making up hundreds of scenarios in her mind of all the things that could possibly go wrong. What did defense systems mean? What if the killers stood there and watched her die and went on without her towards their own freedom? What if she did everything and got to the end and it was all a trick and she woke up next to the campfire again like she’d done a thousand times before? What if- 

She heard the crack of a twig behind her. She jumped and snapped her head around, her eyes landing on The Wraith standing not far away. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized very suddenly that she was alone out here with a killer who could probably do anything he wanted to her and she would be helpless to stop it. Meg took a cautious step back and tensed up, ready to sprint away at a moment's notice. The Wraith blinked at her and held his hands up similarly to how The Trapper did earlier. 

_I’m not a threat,_ his hands said. Yeah well, his actions said otherwise. 

Meg narrowed her eyes and crouched slightly lower into a defensive position, “Are you following me?” 

He thought for a moment before giving her a curt nod, looking around before perking up as some though went through his mind. He stood up straighter and started moving his hands in front of himself, posing his fingers and hands in strange ways. Meg watched him in confusion, not sure what he was trying to do. 

His hands slowed to a stop as he noticed the bewilderment on Meg’s face. He let out a sigh before motioning to his mouth and opening it, his fingers wiggling in front of it and moving away towards her. It clicked in her mind then. He was speaking sign language. Meg didn’t know a lick of sign language. 

He didn’t seem to be trying to attack her, so she relaxed slightly and frowned at him, “I don’t speak sign language. I don’t understand you. Can’t you speak?” 

The Wraith seemed a little disappointed at her confession as he shook his head slowly. He couldn’t speak. 

“Are you mute or deaf or something? Why can’t you speak?” Meg curiously asked. 

He cringed at her question and hesitantly pointed at the sky, his hands coming above his head and his fingers forming claws that twirled down around him. Meg guessed that he was talking about The Entity, what else could that be? 

“The Entity took your voice? So you’re not deaf?” 

He nodded. 

Meg let out an annoyed huff, “Well, since your ears appear to be working, you will clearly hear me tell you to leave me the hell alone.” She turned away from him and kept walking, trying to pick up the internal scenario she was pondering before she was interrupted. 

She didn’t even make it three steps before she heard his footsteps following her once more. 

Meg groaned under her breath and turned to face him again, “What do you want? I told you to leave me alone! I have zero interest in talking to someone who has killed me hundreds of times!” 

He went still at her words with a horrified expression on his face. The low growling that came from him hitched as his eyes trailed to the ground. He looked slowly back up at her and raised his fist, drawing a circle around his chest, giving her a pitiful pleading look with his eyes. Meg didn’t need to understand sign language to know what he was trying to say.

 _I’m sorry._

Meg honestly didn’t know how to react. Either this killer was a master manipulator, or he was being honest. But if he really was sorry… Why did he do it? Did The Entity force him to do it? Is that why it took his voice? Considering those possibilities was opening an endless stream of revelations that contradicted everything she thought she knew about killers and she just couldn’t handle it. There was no way. She thought back to her recent trial against The Clown; that giant grin plastered on his face when he bellowed out a disgusting laugh as he stood over her bleeding body. 

No. Killers were monsters. All of them. If they were truly good people, they would have stood up and said no. Told The Entity’s to go fuck itself. There’s no such thing as a good murderer. She had to believe that.

She glared at him, saying nothing. He blinked at her and frowned, giving her a quick motion for her to follow him before he turned around and walked away. Meg watched him go, her firm expression softening slightly. She couldn’t believe that he left her alone and just… left it up to her if she wanted to follow or not. The Wraith was a big dude he could have just grabbed her and forced her to go back but he didn’t. 

She took a short cautious step forward, contemplating following him. Meg had no idea why she felt compelled to follow him, but she did. She owed him nothing. She owed everyone involved in this jack shit. If she wanted to, she could turn away and continue trekking through these woods. She would probably end up back at the campfire eventually. This would all become a distant memory and she would be reunited with her friends. She would be back. 

Back to being slaughtered every single day after looking freedom in the face and telling it no. 

Meg was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t even realize that her feet were carrying her forward, following close behind The Wraith. Her heart was carrying her when her mind would not. Before she even knew what was happening, the crumbling building came back into view along with The Trapper and Vigo standing in front of it waiting for the two of them. All Meg could manage to do was let her mind go blank, unable to understand why she had ended up here. Her conscious screamed at her to turn around and go back to her friends. Go back to the little bit of good she had left in this hell.

But Meg was human. She was scared. She was selfish. She wanted to be home again so bad, even if it meant abandoning her friends after everything they’d all been through together. The image of Claudette mangled and broken lying in a pool of her own blood flashed in Meg’s mind. Meg remembered how she had looked at her in the eyes with such love and understanding as she mouthed those two words that guided Meg right back to Vigo. 

Leave me.

And just like that, Meg’s mind was made up. No matter the danger, or the naive hope, or the potential for the disappointment of her life, the risk alone was worth it. 

She would see her mother again. 

Meg could feel her usual strength returning slowly as her hesitant steps became more sure by the second. She would do this _for_ her friends. They would understand. They love her and want her to be happy. 

“Have you made up your mind?” An unfortunately familiar gruff voice asked her as she neared the building. 

The same could not be said for her newfound companions, but they didn’t matter. All that mattered was the prize at the end of the journey. She just needed to stomach her hatred and disdain and focus on the future. She could do this. 

Vigo moved forward and met her halfway on the dirt trail with his hands clasped together excitedly, “Yes! We’re very interested in knowing if you are going to accept this task asked of you. May I remind you that freedom is your reward if you manage to capture this intruder?” 

Meg lowered her gaze and considered one last time everything that could possibly go wrong, and all of the things that could go right. Any shred of doubt she had left was quickly washed away and replaced with something she thought she had lost forever: pure, unadulterated hope. Meg realized in that moment that this was everything that she had ever wanted, and it was being offered to her on a silver platter. How could she say no? 

Meg looked back up and met Vigo’s eyes filled with newfound determination. 

“I’ll do it.” 

After all those lost years spent trapped inside of this strange world, Meg Thomas finally had something to hope for, and she’d never felt more alive. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it!! I'll hopefully get some more chapter out to you guys faster in the future! Please leave a comment your feedback fuels me uwu

**Author's Note:**

> AAAAAAA okay ive been planning this fic for literally 6 months and I'm really excited to tell this story!! It's gonna be a good one I think and I hope you guys stick around to see how it ends :,)


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